


Murderous Intent

by damnedapostate (ethydium)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Knotting, M/M, Murder Husbands, Purring, Purring Elves, Smut, killing templars and slavers, no ABO, no harm to anders or fenris, no violence bw anders and fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethydium/pseuds/damnedapostate
Summary: Anders and Fenris are almost-friends. Definitely not enemies, but not really friends. But apparently they share the same love for violence against their oppressors.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Murder Husband AU. There's going to be no violence between Anders and Fenris, no pain-play, nothing. But Templars and slavers should run run run far away from them. 
> 
> Absolutely pro-mage, pro-freedom, extremely anti-Templar, anti-Chantry, anti-magisters story.

Anders had a happy evening at the Hanged Man. Fenris wasn’t present which made him closer to Hawke’s centre of attention. Now he only had to share with Isabela, and… well, if he had been a slightly less stubborn person, he would have already admitted his defeat. Isabela was winning, provided she hadn’t already won this one…

Also, no Fenris meant no debate. Much as he loved their oral sparring, he felt they exhausted every possible argument. And since they hadn’t come up with new ones, it was bound to become boring, and he wouldn’t want that. He got… attached to their heated debates, much as he would never admit it.

There was a certain freedom in voicing his opinions without fear, and hearing Fenris’ answer in response. They clashed and disagreed, but it was something Anders had never had the opportunity before. Sometimes Hawke intervened, worried they would actually attack the other, but Anders knew it would never happen.

Fenris himself told him so, without words after one card night. Anders managed to aggravate him so much that Fenris threw his wine bottle at the wall. Good thing it happened at his place. Varric would never allow such behaviour in his room.

“Fasta vass, mage, how can you not see reason?” He stepped closer, lyrium lightning.

Anders was on his feet immediately, because he wasn’t about to sit idly while Fenris ripped his heart out.

“I’m the living proof of what unrestricted magic leads to!” Fenris shouted angrily.

Lighting died in Anders’ palms, and he squared his shoulders.

“And I’m the proof what happens when you blindly restrict magic!” Anders retorted, and Fenris rolled his eyes.

“The only grievance you mages have here in the south is restricted movements in a cosy tower!” Then, he continued, stepping closer, “Do you have lyrium carved into your skin?” Fenris asked in a low, dangerous voice, grabbing the front of his coat.

“I have loathing and contempt carved into mine!” Anders snapped, feeling Justice’s angry rumble beneath his skin.

Fenris opened his mouth to retort, but no word came out. Anders vowed if he caught even the tiniest glimpse of pity on his face, he would smack Fenris. But Fenris frowned, and asked quietly.

“By Templar blades?”

“And whips,” Anders hissed bitterly. He hadn’t opened up about this to anyone since Karl. He didn’t need to. Surana never needed to ask.

“Whips,” Fenris repeated absentmindedly. Then shuddered, and stepped back. “I hate whips so much,” he added as an afterthought.

“I hate canes more,” Anders murmured, and a pained expression passed through Fenris’ face. Then he nodded in understanding.

“Both are terrible,” he said after some thought. Then he shook himself, as if he wished to banish the bad memories. He turned and sat back on his seat.

Anders followed suit, but couldn’t help to ask.

“Was that the last bottle you had?”

Fenris blinked at him, then at the wine soaked wall. He smirked, and made a soft sound, that Anders labelled as his laugh.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Never mind, I should be glad you didn’t choose to break it over my face, so…”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Fenris interrupted him promptly. “I would never do that, no matter how annoying you are, mage.”

“Good, that’s… good,” he mumbled awkwardly, and pushed a huge chuck of ham in his mouth to excuse any further talking.

Fenris raised his goblet, and peered at him from under his fringe. Anders had a feeling Fenris did see the lightning dying in his hands too.

But this was enough reassurance for Anders. Theirs was an explosive almost-friendship that their other friends didn’t exactly understand.

As he descended a set of stairs in Darktown, he heard the sound of fighting, and felt the pull of the Fade. It either meant a powerful mage or _Fenris_. He took the remaining steps with doubled effort, and ran towards the fight.

As he rounded the corner, he promptly froze on the spot. His brain needed some time to make sense of the scene in front of him.

“Mage,” groaned Fenris, heisting his greatsword on his back.

He was covered in blood and other unsavoury remains. The strong elegance with which he stepped over a body cleaved in two would have normally been enough to make Anders lightheaded by desire, but a sudden addition made his blood _boil_ with it.

“Were they… Fenris, they were…” He apparently lost his ability to form coherent sentences.

Fenris stopped next to him, and leaned on the nearby wall to pull a part of a bowel stuck between his toes.

“Templars, yes,” he answered in a matter of fact voice. “Do you know anyone who would clean up this?”

Anders stared at him, then back at the ruined bodies.

“Their armours are recognisable,” Fenris added.

“How many…”

“Seven,” Fenris finished the sentence for him. What he wasn’t about to reveal was that they were sniffing around for the infamous Darktown healer. “Mage, the remains should be dumped somewhere.”

Anders turned to him with an indescribable expression. He looked smug, relieved and excited all at once.

“You’re covered with Templar blood,” he murmured, and grinned widely. “You look so delicious I could kiss you.”

Fenris would – if asked – blame the adrenaline coursing through his veins, for he stepped closer and delighted in the pause in Anders’ breathing.

“Indeed?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Anders’ face lit up, and leaned in. He stole a last glance behind Fenris, right at the dead bodies, then kissed him thoroughly, and passionately.

Fenris was surprised by the ferocity of the kiss, but he returned it eagerly. Anders’ mouth was hot and eager over his, Anders’ tongue curling around his in a manner that made his knees weak.

Anders pulled back, leaving Fenris a little dazed, but standing. He leaned his forehead against Fenris’.

“Varric has contacts in Darktown, I’ll ask them to clean up the garbage. You should hurry back to Hightown and wash thoroughly. You’re _filthy_.” Fenris had to kiss him for the way he pronounced the word.

“Will do that,” he answered, slightly out of breath.

Anders chuckled, and pulled back entirely. They started walking away from the carnage, shoulders bumping once in a while.

“What will the guard say if they see you?” Anders asked when they reached the stairs.

“They should be used to this,” Fenris answered smugly, exulting over Anders’ surprised expression. “And they wouldn’t dare to stop and search me, anyway,” admitted with a grin. “Good night, Anders.”

Anders nodded at him, and watched as Fenris ascended the stairs, before he went to search for Varric’s people.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More murder and... be warned, this is not for the faint hearted. Please, read the tags!

Fenris was at home, practicing his reading – without any real result. He knew he needed a teacher, but he was stubborn. He believed he could solve this problem alone, just as he did in the past.

But the task turned out to be more and more frustrating, as the hours passed. Fenris knew Hawke was at home that night, so he could swing by, and see how she was doing.

Provided Isabela hadn’t already taken up all the place… Fenris remembered the time he was jealous of her to some extent, but… He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly did Anders worm his way into his thoughts, but that kiss a week ago truly cemented his place there.

Fenris wondered if Anders were an ideal teacher… He could imagine the mage sitting here with him in the barely lit room. With a glass of chilled wine, naked skin gleaming gold in the candle light… Why wasn’t this dream Anders wearing any clothes?

Before he could face the answer to his own question, a loud knock came from the back door.

He was up in a second, and ran down to open it up.

“Anders?” The mage stood on his doorstep, murderous rage written across his face.

Fenris would never admit what this did to his insides. It twisted everything in a delicious knot. The furious aura hugged Anders’ body like a bad omen. It was the one of the most desirable looks on Anders.

“ _Fenris_ ,” he said, breathing shallowly, his voice ringing in the otherworldly echo.

“Please, come on in,” Fenris ushered him in, not wanting to have a possessed apostate on his doorstep for too long.

As soon as the door was closed, he turned Anders towards himself.

“What is it, mage?”

“Slavers!” Anders replied, blue cracks appearing on his skin, his voice deepening. Fenris internally shouted at himself not to get aroused. “We encountered them in a tunnel, but couldn’t risk innocent lives to stop them.” Anders reigned his anger, and talked in his own voice, but Justice was visible under his skin.

“How many?”

“We counted ten. They weren't holding anyone, but hiding in the dark, waiting and gathering their supplies. It’s unjust!”

“Let’s go hunting then,” Fenris said, letting his smirk widen into a wild grin. “Come on. I'll bring my sword.”

Fenris went back to his small room in the back, and started collecting his gauntlets and essentials.

“I disturbed your practice.”

Fenris turned towards the small voice. Anders was standing next to his desk, fingers idly running through the papers and books.

“I wasn't making any progress, so it's no matter, mage” he shrugged without care, but kept watching Anders.

The mage couldn't help himself - he raised the quill and scribbled something on the paper.

Fenris didn't say anything, just continued with his preparation.

When he was ready, he padded on silent feet to the mage. He was still scribbling, turning pages, completely absorbed.

“What are you doing, mage?” Fenris asked lowly.

Anders blinked at him, as if he wasn't really aware of where he was.

“Uhm, there was a small mistake. I couldn't help it.”

Fenris looked pointedly at the countless chicken scratches on the margins. Anders had a very distinctive cursive.

“I can't read your comments,” Fenris sighed.

Anders face twitched, just as it did when he overheard someone talking propaganda about mages, but he didn't want to get involved in an argument.

“What's on your mind, mage? Speak up.”

“I can help you with it,” Anders mumbled. “With your reading. I was a tutor in the Circle, I have experience.”

Fenris had to hide his smirk. Was Anders really trying to appeal to him by mentioning experience? As if he had volunteers lining in front of his front door.

“My patience is short and I get frustrated easily by lack of improvement.”

“Just as anybody’s learning a language,” Anders shrugged. “It was a mere suggestion, Fenris.”

“We'll discuss the time later,” nodded Fenris. “Now we have slavers to kill.”

At the mention of their task Anders’ body shifted, as both spirit and host remembered their _purpose_.

“We'll show the way,” Anders said with utter confidence.

Fenris wondered if he could make him act like this under different circumstances. Telling him what to do in this echoing voice, while he had the autonomy to say no. Or would Anders prefer the other way? Bending to his desires, while voicing his own opinions loudly. Anders seemed like a person who was vocal about his needs.

Fenris hoped the night would end with every slaver killed and burnt, and with at least one kiss gifted from Anders.

*

They descended into the dark tunnels, a mage light hovering over their head to chase away the complete darkness.

“We're near,” Anders whispered, leaning close. His breath tickled the tip of Fenris’ ear, making his blood run hotter in his veins.

“I'm ready, mage.”

They lacked a rogue, but the slavers were careless. They didn't set any traps as they didn't fear any attacks. They obviously enjoyed someone's favour. The city's or the templar’s, Fenris didn't know.

All he knew is that they were all going to die.

They wreaked havoc, as both of them let go and focused on maximising the damage. Anders burnt and zapped the slavers, blue fade light illuminating his skin, while Fenris beheaded and cleaved them in two. They made an effective and deadly team.

Fenris saw one of the slavers going pale, then exploding after Anders threw a lighting at him, his screams deafening everyone around him.

Fenris caught Anders’ eyes and they shared a malicious, glowing grin. He knew he had to ask Anders later about this spell, it looked… _practical_.

The fight was gruesome, but short. Soon they stood in the large room, painting heavily, alone with the barely recognisable corpses.

“They will hurt nobody else,” Anders said, his voice ricocheting back from the smoke stained walls. It echoed in Fenris’ guts.

They were both a mess. Clothes stained with bodily fluids, skin sticky with blood and sweat. The air was heavy with the smell of death and magic.

It turned Fenris’ inside upside down, but instead of making him sick, it warmed him and made him feel reckless.

Anders stepped closer, grinning at him widely.

“You were…,” he panted excitedly. “Magnificent! More than a mere man… something wild and savage.”

Fenris didn't know why the compliment went straight to his groin, but it did.

“I enjoy the irony of slavers getting killed by a slave.” Anders blinked at him, not understanding, and Fenris caught his relapse. “Former slave.”

“You're a fugitive now,” Anders murmured, stepping closer to pull something out of Fenris’ hair.

It was a tooth.

Fenris grinned at the small bone, and Anders threw it behind himself.

He knew he wasn't going to return home alone. This was a shattering realisation, one that he saw reflected on Anders’ face.

“There was a spell,” he started, clearing his throat. Anders came closer, surprised at his words. “That made one of them explode.”

“It was an entropy spell,” hummed Anders in agreement. “I learnt it from Surana. The Warden Commander. In exchange, I showed her some dirty spells.”

Fenris made a mental note to get back on the dirty spells later.

“It looked like blood magic,” he confessed, trying to make his voice neutral. He wasn't accusing, merely inquiring.

“That was my first reaction too,” Anders admitted with a shrug. “But it's not, I promise.”

“Their screams were music to my ears.”

“For mine too,” he murmured, stepping even closer. Still, he hesitated.

Fenris thought about the last time, when Anders took the first step. Now it was his turn.

“You're a force to reckon with, mage. When you… You could have told Hawke.”

Anders frowned for a moment.

“She's with Isabela tonight, I doubt it would have been fair to ask her… and she might have asked Aveline, and I'd rather not involve her. Or anyone else, but you.”

“Good thinking,” he murmured and leaned closer, his lips almost touching Anders’. “We can be savages together.”

Anders opened his mouth - maybe to answer, maybe to beg, but Fenris didn't give him a chance. He rose to his toes, and kissed him hungrily.

Anders steadied him by gripping his arms, fingers gently caressing the naked patch of skin, and pulled him closer.

Fenris went willingly, grabbing the front of Anders’ ridiculous coat.

The kiss was even more heated then the last time, as they were both worked up from the fight.

Panting, Anders pulled back a little.

“Oh my, it seems we're both filthy now,” Anders wondered aloud.

Fenris smirked, pushing his nose against Anders’.

“Very filthy, yes. It's _disgusting_ ,” Anders huffed out a laugh, right against his right ear, and Fenris shuddered. He turned his head to the side so that Anders could kiss the sensitive skin gently. “We reek,” he signed, masking a needy gasp. “And as soon as it starts to dry, it's going to be itchy.”

“Should we lose our clothing then?” Anders asked in a low voice, tightening his grip on Fenris’ arms. One of his fingers was almost touching the lyrium, and the residual aura of magic hanging around Anders was making Fenris’ tattoos buzz with energy. “Right here surrounded by corpses of slavers?”

Fenris wanted to say it was insane, that if course he wouldn't want that, but… That would have been a lie. And he saw desire written clearly on Anders’ face.

“Maybe not all of them,” Fenris started, and Anders’ eyes positively brightened.

“But some of them surely?” Anders asked hopefully, nuzzling against Fenris’ ear.

Fenris felt an unfamiliar urge overwhelm him, and then heard a strange sound come from his throat.

“Maker, are you purring?” Anders gasped, chuckling softly as he nibbled on the soft skin with his lips. Fenris’ purring hitched to a higher sound.

Hadriana had always mocked him when she caught him unaware. She said it was disgusting, flawed sound, marking him clearly the lowest of the low, a dumb beast, an unworthy creature. He made himself forget how to purr.

He only dared to start again on Merrill’s insistence. And even then, he needed to hear Hawke’s honest joy about Merrill’s cute purring, to be entirely comfortable with his own.

“You are purring, aren't you? It's a lovely sound, Fenris,” added Anders, making Fenris’ heart melt a little. “I'm honoured.”

Because Anders felt encouraged by hearing Fenris purring, so he gently bit down on his ear.

Fenris didn't whine, but a sound very, very similar to that escaped from him. Anders continued to bite and nibble, while murmuring softly.

“Look around us, Fenris. The fools are now lying dead at our feet. Isn't that nice?”

Fenris nodded, not trusting his words to come out clearly. He looked and rejoiced at their surroundings. Evil people who treated elves like garbage littering the cold tunnel floor like… _garbage_. It felt like justice. And it was sweet and invigorating.

He raised his hands to Anders’ cheek, careful not to cut him with his gauntlets, and turned his face back so he could kiss Anders senseless.

The kiss was welcomed, and Anders took his hands from Fenris arms, swiping one thumb over a lyrium line. Fenris’ gasp was muffled by the kiss, but wasn't unnoticed. Then in a bold move, Anders sneaked his hand between their bodies, and cupped Fenris’ groin.

Fenris groaned into the kiss, and Anders giggled happily.

“Maker, Fenris, you feel huge,” he whispered loudly. This earned him a bite on his lips.

Fenris looped his arms around him, grabbing a handful of his ass, grounding himself on his palm.

Then Anders nimble fingers loosened his pants, and wormed their way into his underwear, gripping his erection loosely.

“Mage,” Fenris breathed, sucking on Anders’ tongue desperately.

Anders continued teasing him - swiping a thumb over the wet head, rolling his balls, tugging once or twice at his erection.

Fenris toes curled in the dirt beneath his feet, and turned to rest his head on Anders’ feathered shoulder.

He caught a glimpse of a severed head, and shuddered in joyful unease.

He felt himself stiffen further, and Anders noticed it too.

“Do you…,” asked Anders, his voice incredulous.

“Do I what, mage?” Fenris asked wildly. The whole situation was making him slowly, but surely lose control.

“Do you knot?” Anders asked with strained voice.

“Yeah,” Fenris rasped out, as Anders fingers tightened around him, and he leaned down to kiss him deeply.

Fenris expected a little worry or doubt, but never this excitement.

“Andraste’s knickerweasels,” breathed Anders, fingers caressing the base of Fenris’ penis, exactly where the knot will swell. “I really want you… Can I suck you, Fenris?”

Fenris made an unintelligible sound, but it was clearly affirmative. Still, Anders didn't move, just smirked at him, kneading his erection.

“Yes, Anders, yes!” He said out loud. Anders stepped away, and led him to the nearest wall. He gently pushed Fenris against it, and promptly dropped onto his knees.

Fenris didn't expect this, but it was a welcome surprise.

Anders eased his tight pants lower on his thighs, breath hot on Fenris’ erection, but he didn't touch it yet. No, he turned his face upwards, looking up at Fenris.

Fenris threw his gauntlets on the ground, and pushed his hands into Anders’ hair, loosening the pony tail to let his golden red hair fall freely on his shoulder.

“You're beautiful, mage,” he murmured automatically, having too little blood in his brain to stop impulsive comments.

Anders grinned widely, and pushed the edge of Fenris’ tunic away.

“So the tattoos don't extend all the way,” he said in an amused voice.

Fenris huffed out a half laugh. The lyrium curled around his navel and around his thighs and buttocks, but not on his genitalia.

“I'd be glad to show the whole design to you, Anders. Later,” he promised, but he was getting desperate now.

“Oh, can I lick you all over?”

“Definitely, yes,” grinned Fenris. Who would have thought the mage’s pretty head brewed this excellent ideas. “But now concentrate on one thing.”

“Bossy, bossy,” Anders murmured with a grin, but curled his hand around the base of his erection.

Then he leaned in and kissed the head soundly. Fenris was suddenly very glad for the wall's support.

Especially, when after a couple of small licks, Anders opened his mouth and sucked the whole head in.

“Anders,” gasped Fenris. The mage truly had a wicked tongue. He kept the gentle pressure on the head, while starting to massage his heavy balls.

Fenris’ knees almost buckled when Anders slowly pushed more and more of his erection in his mouth, stopping before the swelling knot. The warm wetness hugging him was esquisite, and he couldn't help the gentle rocking of his hips.

Why haven't they done this sooner?

He looked at Anders kiss-reddened mouth stretched wide over his penis, and his purring got louder again.

He caressed Anders cheek and mouth with a thumb, murmuring sweet nonsense, as Anders kept pleasuring him.

He didn't know how would ever be able to reciprocate such pleasure.

Anders hummed around him, and Fenris felt the familiar pull in his groin.

“Anders, I'm going to…” he started to mutter, and Anders curled his tongue around him in such a way that made Fenris forget everything else.

Anders tightened his grip over his knot, the gesture speaking of experience, and swallowed eagerly every last drop. When it stopped, he pulled up, panting, looking smug and satisfied with himself.

Fenris wanted to wipe the expression off his face with as many kisses as he could. He dropped to his knees, not having the strength to stand any longer, and pulled Anders into a messy kiss.

Anders hummed happily, and let himself be tugged as Fenris wanted.

“Let me,” Fenris asked softly, trying to find an opening on Anders’ monstrosity of a coat.

Anders chuckled, and unclasped his coat, then Fenris managed to open the trousers and small clothes alone.

When he saw Anders’ penis, it made his mouth water. It was pink, and looked delightfully soft. Fenris took it in his hands carefully, and tugged at it experimentally - Anders’ resulting gasp was music to his ears.

“Do you have some salve?” he asked, and Anders nodded in a rush.

He took a small container from the depth of his coat, and gave it to Fenris, who smeared an appropriate amount on his hands, and started gently stroking him.

Anders face turned blissed, and leaned in for yet another kiss. This one turned out sweet and chaste.

Fenris took his other hand into Anders’ hair, tugging his head to the side. He mouthed along the freckled skin, chasing the goose bumps.

Anders whined, and pushed his hips eagerly forward, desperately trying to get even more friction.

Fenris slowed down and bit down on Anders neck.

“Fenris, please,” Anders begged. “Please.”

Fenris felt no more teasing was necessary, but he revelled in Anders’ flushed face and dazed expression. He started pumping his hand faster, while kissing Anders, swallowing every precious sound he made.

Anders suddenly rose on his knees, and crowded Fenris to the wall, burying his hands in Fenris’ hair to stroke his ears.

Fenris purred into the kiss loudly, not even considering to cease the kiss for one moment, and tightened his grip on Anders’ erection.

He loved the feeling of power that came with pleasuring Anders, but also how completely Anders surrounded him with his warmth and smell. He was getting drunk on it.

Anders gasped softly, and Fenris felt him spill on his fingers. He stroked Anders through his orgasm, only stopping when Anders was a shaking mess, panting in the crook of his neck.

Fenris raised his hand and licked it clean, making a show of it. Anders groaned, and nibbled at his ear in retaliation.

“Come home with me,” murmured Fenris, hugging Anders close, careful of his armour. “I have a huge tub we can fill with hot water.”

“Can I wash your back?” asked Anders, his grin tired and blinding in his bliss.

“Yes, mage,” snorted Fenris. “You can wash my back.”

“Then sure, I'll go with you.”

Fenris had to kiss his stupid grin for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what did you guys think? :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut

They managed to get back in the mansion without being seen by the guards. They accidentally scared some servants doing there early morning errands, but that was all. 

Fenris led Anders in the bathing chambers. He expected a reaction, and he got one. 

A happy smile appeared on Anders face. 

“We can say anything about Tevinter, but they know everything about bathing.”

Fenris chuckled and shook his head. 

“Get undressed, I'll bring the soap and the buckets.”

*

They left their clothes in a heap by the door, and washed quickly with dumping buckets of water on each other. 

It was weird how comfortable they both were in their nakedness, but Fenris was glad. He enjoyed Anders’ eyes wandering and occasionally stopping on his body. 

He couldn't help but flex his muscles once in a while. It made Anders giggle happily, so he guessed it was worth it. 

“May I wash your hair?” asked Fenris, raising a couple of bottles.

Anders scouted closer, nodding eagerly. 

“Yes, please. I'll help with yours too.”

Fenris made him sit on a low stool, and stood behind him. 

He poured the soap on his hands and gently massaged it into Anders’ hair. Wet, his hair seemed darker, a dirty blond. 

Fenris was careful not to tug at it too much, but the relieved sigh that escaped Anders indicated he was enjoying himself. 

“Close your eyes,” he said, and dumped lukewarm water on him, to rinse the lather. “There, you're ready. I'll start the water, then you wash mine, alright?”

Anders nodded, blinking low. Fenris leaned down and kissed him, just because. Anders tasted a bit soapy, but that didn't ruin the experience. 

He sat back on the stool, and Anders started washing his hair, his movements almost reverent. Anders sometimes, stroked over his ears, earning his soft purring to start again.

“I like it so much when you do that,” murmured Anders, digging his fingers into Fenris’ scalp. Anders purposefully dragged it out, massaging Fenris’ head, neck and ears until he was melting like butter in a hot room. 

“You're spoiling me,” mumbled Fenris, and leaned back to rest his head on Anders’ stomach. 

“Says he who is preparing a bath for me,” chuckled Anders, combing his hair back. “Ah, you have tattoos on your forehead too. I never noticed.” Fenris blinked at him lazily, like a cat. “You have a pretty face, if you grew your hair out, you could have it up in a neat bun.”

Fenris sighed, too comfortable to get worked up. 

“In Tevinter, nobles have their hair cut really short. Only slaves have long hair. They are not allowed to cut it. I… I have never been.”

“Good thing you aren't in Tevinter anymore,” said Anders softly, massaging his tensed-up shoulders. “Here you're free to do whatever you want with your hair,” he added, combing through the white hair again. “But you could show more of your face, it’d suit you.”

Fenris turned, and kissed the inside of Anders’ wrist, and said, “I'll take it into consideration.”

Anders sighed happily, and brought the bucket up. 

“Close your eyes,” he warned gently, and rinsed Fenris off. 

Then they both went to the almost full tub, and Fenris closed the tap. Due to dwarven plumbing and runes, the water was already hot enough for them. 

Fenris stepped in, then helped Anders in. 

“Careful, it's slippery,” he warned, tightening his grip on Anders’ arm. 

Anders huffed out a laugh, and sat close to Fenris. The tub was big enough for them both, even with Anders stretching out his legs. 

“Thanks, but I'm a big boy, no need to worry that much.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow, and splashed some water on Anders. 

“The last time we were on the Wounded Coast, your boots got caught in a gnarled root and you fell flat on your face,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Anders opened his mouth, then closed it. 

“You got me there,” he shrugged with a smile. 

Fenris sighed exasperatedly, and dipped lower in the water. It was just the right temperature. Made both of them flushed, especially Anders. His freckles stood out even more from his reddened skin. 

Fenris caught him looking. 

“What is it, mage?” he asked without heat. 

Anders put his hands on his arms, but didn't touch the lyrium. 

“May I?” he asked politely, and Fenris nodded, and raised his arms from the water. 

Anders gently traced the skin next to the lyrium. His closeness made them pleasantly itch with anticipation. 

“You can touch the lyrium directly,” murmured Fenris, not taking his eyes off Anders. He wondered what his reaction would be. 

Anders hummed, and stroked a finger across a line on Fenris’ forearm. 

Fenris felt the lyrium come alive, reacting to the proximity of potent magic, and Anders groaned. 

“Fuck,” Anders said, the profanity sounding off with his voice getting echoes. “We can hear you sing,” he added, then cleared his throat. “It's… unusual, sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly. 

Fenris loved how small and mundane Anders sounded after Justice’s influence dissipated. 

“Does it affect Justice, too?” 

Anders looked up at him, and searched his face for an answer to an unasked question. 

“In a way, yes. It calls to him, and… He yearns to answer.”

The prospect sent a pleasant chill through Fenris’ spine. 

“Can we… Kiss it?”

“The lyrium?” Fenris asked, his voice strained as he tried to mask his eager curiosity. “Sure.”

Anders smiled at him, then raised his hands to his mouth and kissed the back of his hand. 

Fenris blinked rapidly, feeling the arousal rouse in his body. Anders had no need for such dramatic… But apparently, he did. Because the next thing Anders did was curling his tongue around one of Fenris’ fingers, and sucked it into his mouth. 

The lyrium tingled, and desire pooled in Fenris’ groin. He had to retaliate. So, he lighted his lyrium on his hand. Anders’ eyes rolled back, and blue cracks appears on his skin. 

“Fenris~,” Anders groaned, moaning around the digit. 

Fenris felt slight terror bloom in his chest. He has never been this close to Justice, not while being naked and this aroused. He had conflicting emotions about the situation, it made him more turned on. He gently pulled his finger out and caressed Anders swollen lips. He grinned at him, or rather them. 

“Anders, are you in control?” he asked without alarm. Justice was a part of their ragtag group, and he fought with him against slavers. 

“In a way, we both are,” Anders replied, voice echoing. “Don't be alarmed, you're safe with us.”

Fenris smiled a little, and shook his head while shifting closer. 

“I'm not afraid of you. None of you.”

“You speak the truth, as surprising as it is,” told him Anders with a smile. Then he turned his head and kissed Fenris’ palm, right at the centre, where the lyrium lines met. 

It was an electrifying experience, and Fenris felt it resonate through his whole body, only stopping at his tail bone. He needed to snog Anders thoroughly, so he shifted closer, pulling Anders in an embrace. 

“I'll surprise you even more, if you let me,” Fenris murmured against Anders lips. 

“Anything,” he breathed out desperately, and kissed Fenris’ smile. 

The glowing died down as they deepened the kiss - Justice wished no part of it, and curled up in the back of Anders’ mind, euphoric from the lyrium. 

Anders let himself fall into the kiss with full enthusiasm. He cradled Fenris head, and pulled him close, as close as he could. Any distance between their bodies felt magnified as the need grew.

Fenris pulled back, panting slightly, and reached over the edge of the tub. He proceeded to pull up a bottle, and gave it to Anders. 

“Please,” he murmured, and kissed Anders nose. 

Anders blinked at the bottle, then up to Fenris. 

“I'm sorry, but…” he started, and Fenris felt his blood run cold. He wondered what he did wrong. “But I'm not sure I can take your knot right now… We need serious preparation for that, and I'm afraid I'd fall asleep on you,” he mumbled apologetically. “But give me four hours of sleep, and I won't disappoint.”

Fenris had to hide his embarrassment in kissing Anders senseless. 

“I meant,” he murmured, pulling back slightly. Not even a sovereign could have been placed between their lips. “me. I'd like you to fuck me.”

“Oh,” came out the intelligent reply. “Oh, oh!” Anders grinned widely at him. “Yes, of course, if you're certain…”

“I wouldn't have asked otherwise,” replied Fenris, biting at Anders’ lips gently. 

“I'd be happy to, yes, sorry for being a dumb peanut…”

Fenris snorted, and tucked Anders’ hair back behind his ears. 

“I'm used to it, mage,” he told Anders in all seriousness he could gather. Anders grinned at him, and pulled him up. 

“How do you think I should do it?” he asked, eagerly kneading Fenris’ backside. 

Fenris rested his elbows on the side of the tub, raising his ass out of the water. 

Anders couldn't keep his hands off of him, so he opened the oil bottle with his teeth. 

“Don't be rough,” Fenris told him firmly, looking back over his shoulder. Anders nodded at that. “And no magic, please. No dirty spells, not even that electricity trick Isabela boasts about.”

Anders kept nodding, then smiled. 

“Oh, that's really a trick, there's nothing sexual about it,” Anders said with a shrug. “I worked in the Pearl as a healer, you know. But I understood, no magic for you, Fenris.”

Anders kissed along his spine, rubbing at Fenris’ hips and lower back, but not actually starting to do anything.

“There’s an alarming lack of fingering being done, mage,” Fenris groaned. “Quit stalling!”

Anders laughed at that, and finally moved his hand to the desired place. 

“I wouldn't dare to stall,” he chuckled heartily, and pulled Fenris’ cheeks apart and circled his hole with a thumb. 

Fenris shivered despite the hot water steaming under him. 

“I'm in no rush, are you?”

“Mage,” Fenris groaned impatiently, half tempted to do the whole preparation by himself. 

“Alright, alright,” he mumbled, and poured oil on his fingers. “Tell me if there's any discomfort and I'll stop immediately.”

Fenris nodded, and rocked back on his knees to make Anders hurry. 

“Fenris, I need words,” told him Anders sternly, gripping his hips to stop him moving. 

“Yes, Anders, I'll say no, if you do anything I'm uncomfortable with. I hope you’ll return the favour.”

Anders hummed in delight, and pushed one finger into Fenris, ever so slowly. Fenris immediately rocked back on it, wiggling his butt for emphasis. 

“Maker, you're eager,” chuckled Anders, and leaned down to bite into Fenris’ ass. “Patience, love, I'll make you feel good, don't worry.”

Fenris blinked his eyes open, and turned to look at the mage over his shoulder. 

“What?” he asked, because his brain couldn't quite make sense of what he had heard. 

“So good, I promise, Fenris,” Anders murmured into his skin, kissing his back and pushing another oiled finger in. 

He brushed over Fenris’ prostate and all thoughts fled from the elf's brain. He kept rocking back into Anders’ hands, enjoying every caress and touch. 

It really was just as sweet as he imagined it would be - Anders took his time opening up, didn't rush for his own pleasure and made sure Fenris was feeling absolutely fantastic. He kept murmuring into his skin, licking his heavy balls to tease the elf further, tugging at his cock with a loose fist. 

When Fenris stopped biting his lips and let the groans and whimpers out, Anders encouraged him hotly. 

“That's it, love, that's it. Feels good doesn't it?”

Fenris made a noncommittal noise, feeling his core heating up, edging closer and closer to an orgasm. He gripped the cold porcelain edge of the tub and pushed himself back, eager to feel more of Anders’ heat. 

Anders kissed along his spine, biting gently, up and up to his shoulder. He mouthed along his neck, and Fenris promptly turned his head to make room for Anders’ hot kisses. 

He panted heavily, eager for more and more, chasing the sweet maddening feeling of release. Then Anders pushed his nose against his twitching ear, and Fenris felt himself shudder with pleasure. He felt Anders’ erection rub against his thighs and ass, but Anders paid no mind to it as he licked along the cartilage, and bit down gently. His sole focus was making Fenris lose himself in pleasure. 

Fenris keened softly, and when Anders unexpectedly flicked his wrists and tightened his hands over Fenris’ swelling knot, he finally made the elf tumbled over the edge. 

Anders held him and kissed his shoulder, while he gently tugged his fingers free. 

Fenris couldn't keep himself up any longer, so he shifted to sit and tug Anders over himself. 

“Did you like--,” started his question Anders, but Fenris quickly kissed the words out of his mouth. 

It shocked Fenris how generous Anders’d been, but he didn't want to think about it right now. “I did, yes, but you're far from finished, mage,” he murmured in a low voice, and hugged him closer with his knees. Anders went willingly, and Fenris gripped Anders’ erection and guided it to his hole. 

Anders didn't need any more encouragement and slowly pushed himself in. He waited for a moment to let Fenris get used to his humble girth, then got a tight grip on the edge and started moving. 

Fenris wanted to roll his head back and let the pleasure wash over him again, but he couldn't let go of Anders’ eyes. 

The warm honey colours were almost entirely black now, and looked at him with such open adoration, that it made his heart beat faster. 

He tugged Anders even closer, hugging his neck with his arms and kissing his mouth every time the mage came close enough. 

“Anders,” he whispered, but didn't know how to continue. His heart filled to the brim with a soft emotion… A sentiment he couldn't name. 

Anders smiled at him, and took one of Fenris’ legs and pushed it over his own shoulders. The new angle made Fenris whimper and clutch at Anders tightly.  

“Better, right?” murmured Anders, and sneaked a hand between them and palmed Fenris’ knot. 

Without the stimuli, it didn't fully form, just partially. Still, it was sensitive and Anders loved the expression this put on Fenris’ face. Blissed out, heavily lidded green eyes stared at him, making Anders drunk with satisfaction. 

He was already close, so he was eager to make Fenris come once again, before he did too. But apparently, Fenris had different plans. He started grounding himself down, and tightening his muscles rhythmically to match Anders’ movements. 

Anders’ faltered and then quickened his pace to chase his own end, and Fenris pulled him closer by his hair to mash their mouth together. 

“Come on, Anders,” he purred into Anders mouth. “Let go now.”

Anders felt his balls tighten and then he was coming, coming deep inside Fenris, riding it out, desperate to pull the elf with him. He luckily managed to, leaving the elf completely blissed out and feeling boneless. 

With a last kiss, Anders pulled back, gently extracting himself, and pushing down Fenris leg.

“Alright?” asked Anders, combing the wet hair out of Fenris face, when he saw a small frown. 

“I was just thinking how long do you need to sleep now to take my knot,” murmured Fenris, smiling lazily. 

Anders snorted, and patted Fenris thigh under the cooling water. 

“Six, at least. And I also need a big breakfast. Don't you think it's easy to have a Grey Warden lover. We're high maintenance.”

Fenris pushed himself out of the water, and pulled Anders up too. 

“I think I'll manage, mage,” he laughed, and threw a towel at Anders. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have solid ideas how this'll go further, my dudes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot??? In my fic?  
> More likely than I would have thought.

Anders woke to the smell of bacon and fresh bread. He thought he was dreaming, but Justice quickly reminded him that it wasn’t the Fade. So Anders quickly blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and sat up.

Fenris was pushing things around the table to have enough room slicing up a huge loaf of bread

“Good morning,” he greeted Anders with a small smile.

Anders enthusiastically got up from the bed, and walked up to him. He was feeling exceptionally well rested and that made him bold, so he hugged Fenris from the back and kissed his neck softly.

“Why do you spoil me this much?” he wondered aloud, and felt Fenris huff out a laugh.

“You said you needed sleep and food,” murmured Fenris, the tips of his ears brightening. It was easier to say than confessing he liked providing to Anders. And he also craved the intimacy of a shared morning meal.

Frying some bacon and getting fresh bread and some milk from a nearby vendor was the least he could do. He was a free man; he could do these things now.

*

They ate in front of the fireplace, cuddling close as Anders traced his fingers over Fenris’ chest.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Fenris, when Anders’ expression suddenly changed to worried.

“Do you have any plans for today?” asked Anders instead of replying. Fenris let is slide and didn’t push the issea.

“Not, really, no,” he answered with shrug. “I’ll have a job tomorrow. Aveline arranged it for me. It’s a simple mercenary job, but I’ll be out of the city for three or four days.”

“You’re going away alone?” Anders seemed surprised.

“I’ll be accompanying a group of merchants and their guards. It hardly counts as alone,” Fenris murmured, amused by Anders’ worry.

“I meant alone as in without Hawke.” And _me_. But he wasn’t brave enough to add that too.

“I do that sometimes, yes. It pays good money and helps me get out of here for a while. Why are you asking?”

“It’s nothing, but…” Anders looked out of the window, measuring the angle of the sun.

“You’d like to return to your work at the clinic,” sighed Fenris.

“I know we had plans,” started Anders, twining his fingers together. “And I’d love to stay, but…” He stopped talking, because Fenris gently took his hand into his, and raised it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles softly. “Oh.” Nobody kissed his hands. Not since Karl… because a healer’s hands were always so bloody.

“Anders, you can go,” said Fenris gently. He was well aware of the effect his gesture had on Anders. The tips of his ears were bright red too. “I’ll be back in Kirkwall soon and we can meet then. We don’t have to hurry with anything.”

Anders leaned closer and kissed him in answer.

Fenris had never been kissed like that. He felt his toes curl and his chest tighten with a strange fluttering feeling.

When Anders pulled back and smiled at him brightly, Fenris felt like an idiot for not insisting on them spending the next days – or an eternity – together in the mansion, shielded by questioning eyes and reality.

“Thank you for understanding,” said Anders and Fenris wanted nothing more but to make this smile a permanent feature on Anders’ face.

“It’s not a problem, mage,” he grumbled awkwardly and tried - and _failed_ \- to hide his embarrassment.

*

Anders left after that, and Fenris went on the trip alone. It was without major complications, but after the suns set, he often caught himself thinking about Anders. Wondering if he was still up and running around in his clinic or went out with Hawke.

*

Just as planned, Fenris returned to Kirkwall four days later. He went to the mansion first, so he could take a long, well deserved bath. He didn’t have any injuries, but he was bruised and battered and tired. Most of what could heal on their own, without any help by a long night sleep and a hearty meal.

But Fenris supposed there must be advantages of knowing a spirit healer, after all. So he went to Darktown. Not because he missed Anders terribly, no. Not at all. He was only in need of healing.

*

It was late afternoon, but Anders was busy. Fenris didn’t mind it, sat on a cot, and leaned on the wall. He really was more tired than he thought. He shut his eyes… just for a moment, really. But he overestimated his own stamina, and soon fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t alone on the cot. An elf child was sitting next to him.

“Hi, you fell asleep,” the girl said to him jovially. “Martha and I thought you were dead, but then Mama said you were only asleep.”

Fenris nodded, not knowing how to reply to any of that. The child didn’t seem to mind as she chattered anyway. She talked about her mother a lot, and her voice kept Fenris awake as he waited. He found he didn’t mind it.

It wasn’t that he liked children… but to see a young elf this carefree and happy made something warm settle in his chest.

*

After the mother was taken care of, and with her the last of the patients left too, Anders had time to see to Fenris.

“Just sit on that table, I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said with a tired smile.

Fenris did as he was told, feeling calm and relived. He was finally back with Anders and that made the world seem a brighter, warmer place.

“So… how can I help you, Fenris?” Anders asked, walking up to him. “What happened?”

 “We had potions, so I don’t have a wound, but I’m sore and…” He finished with a shrug. It wasn’t easy to put into words. And he still had a problem with asking for help.

“And?” Anders prompted patiently.

“You’d said I can always come to you. My lyrium feels sore. Hot and irritated, as if I used it too much.”

Anders’ face quickly turned worried.

“We were talking about your lyrium and wondered about if it wasn’t too much.”

Cold dread gripped Fenris’ heart. “Talked about with whom?”

“With Justice,” Anders replied, eyes flashing blue momentarily. “So you say they ache?”

“It’s a dull soreness, as if they were… muscles I used too much.”

“Have this happened before?”

“Couple of times.”

Anders hummed, and stepped closer. “I’d like to take a closer look, but… Justice is the expert. Are you alright with him coming out to look at you?”

“Yes, yes he can look. And touch if needed.”

Anders smiled then his whole frame shifted as Justice took control.

Fenris’ lyrium tingled by the close proximity of the spirit, but he wasn’t alarmed.

“May I have your hand?” asked Justice politely, and Fenris offered his right arm for closer inspection. Justice hummed lowly, a tune that almost sounded familiar, but alien at the same time. Fenris wondered where he had heard it before. “Is there pain somewhere?”

“In my right shoulder,” explained Fenris. Justice nodded, and stepped closer.

“Your armour is in the way,” said Justice after some consideration. “Take it off.” He stepped back to give Fenris more space.

There was a short and stunned silence, after which Justice added. “Please, it would make the examination easier. I would try and not be this rude in the future.”

Fenris snorted, but started disrobing. “It’s fine, you just surprised me. If you wanted me naked, you just have to ask.”

Fenris disrobed methodically, while Justice stood around awkwardly and very pointedly didn’t even glance in his direction. Fenris wondered why that was. He doubted fade beings had a concept of privacy and nudity. This might have been Anders’ influence on the spirit, but still. Anders shouldn’t feel this shy around him. He had already seen much more than this.

*

Anders was murmuring softly in Justice ear.

“He came to us for help, we can’t make him feel unsafe,” murmured Anders.

“I know, Anders.”

“Then stop trying to sneak a peek at his butt,” warned him Anders hotly.

“Why is it this hard?” wondered Justice. “It’s just a body… I know you sometimes feel like it when Isabela bends over a trap or Hawke does, but… this is different.”

“Because this is Fenris,” huffed Anders. “This isn’t just a body, it’s one belonging to him.”

“Oh. Are we in lo—“

“Yes,” hissed Anders, halting Justice. “Yes, yes, we are, but don’t mention it to him. You hear me? Under no circumstances can he know!”

Justice didn’t say lying was unjust. Not this time.

*

Justice’s touch was cool on his skin, and the tattoos felt oddly lighter on his body. As Justice pulled a glowing hand over his limbs and torso, Fenris felt better by the minute.

“The lyrium is blocked on some places,” Justice explained to him, as he was blinking slowly because his eyelids felt heavy. “It puts a huge strain on your body, Fenris.”

Fenris hummed in response, and Justice looked down at him. “You might feel tired and sleepy. Do not fight it. You are safe here. Sleep if you want. A calm consciousness only helps the process.”

Fenris nodded slightly, and relaxed fully on the table as he lay there. He soon fell asleep, but weirdly remained aware of what was going on around him.

Justice traced his lyrium, trying to unblock the excess energy stored in there.

Fenris didn’t know how long it took, but when he blinked his eyes open, it was Anders smiling down at him tiredly.

“Welcome back. How do you feel?”

Fenris slowly sat up with the help of Anders. “I feel amazing,” he confessed, hopping down from the table. He did some squats, bended over, stretched out as far as he could.

He felt like a new person.

“I’m glad,” Anders said, with sparks in his eyes, and a flush over his face. He really appreciated Fenris trying out how his limbs worked.

“How did you do it?” asked Fenris curiously.

“It’s hard to explain,” started Anders. “Justice feels the lyrium more keenly and together we can drain the excess knots from the tattoos. These cause the aches and soreness that you experienced.”

“And you can just… do it?”

“Well….” Anders hesitated, contemplating on admitting the fact that he was thoroughly beat, or not. “It’s not an easy feat, but we can manage. I would like to check up on you in the morning. To see what changed and what didn’t.”

“Very well,” nodded Fenris, and rubbed at his eyes. He was still tired after the whole endeavour. “Is it possible for me to stay?”

“Yes, of course.” Anders positively beamed at the suggestion. “We can share my little cot in the back. It’s not much, but…”

“It will do, mage.”

The cot, as promised, wasn’t much. But Fenris slept much better there, on the thin mattress with Anders, than ever on the huge soft bed in Hightown.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm totally open for suggestions & prompts in this au : )


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some knotting happens. Enjoy, my dudes.

Fenris woke slower than usual. He remained just on the edge of consciousness as he delighted in the warmth around his body. He was cocooned in a blanket, his limbs entangled with Anders’.

He didn’t want to move and lose the serenity of the situation. He heard Anders’ soft snoring, so he knew the mage was still asleep. Fenris had to see how he looked, so he blinked his eyes open.

Anders’ face was soft and calm in his slumber. Fenris felt himself smile without meaning to. Since he has been looking, he realised Anders had many faces.

When he was a healer in the depth of Darktown, his face was either stern – mending broken bones and tending to injuries, helping newborns into the world; or gentle as he calmed grieving relatives and agitated mothers.

When he raised inferno and killed slavers and demons alike, he looked stunning in his wild glee. He was incredibly powerful, healing them meticulously even in the heat of the battle, never taking his eyes off them. At those times, Fenris could easily imagine him as a Warden. Most of Anders’ stories from his time at the Wardens consisted of humorous anecdotes, but Fenris suspected there was a lot more killing then Anders admitted.

And when it was only the two of them, Fenris discovered a whole new face. Anders’ mad glee at seeing him covered in Templar blood and his wild determination when he informed him about the slavers. How much it angered him that they were hiding in the shadows, waiting to hurt people. It wasn’t his fight… slavery. He had enough on his plate with the mage’s plight. Still, Anders took the time to be angry on his behalf.

He was the second person who ever did that. The first was Hawke, and for that, she would always have a special place in Fenris’ heart. And this also made an important lesson for him. For years, he thought he would end up in Hawke’s bed. This was what he wanted, and he was sure Anders wanted that too. Anders never made any attempt to hide his jealousy.

Fenris wondered if Anders was still hurt over Isabela stealing Hawke’s heart from him. Or was he… on the same opinion that it didn’t matter anymore? Because as much as Fenris loved Hawke, he realised by now, they weren’t a good match. Maybe in a different life, but in this, they certainly didn’t. He was drawn to Anders, inexplicably, but without any doubt.

It wasn’t just the shared joy of killing their enemies. It was the soft simplicity of reading together in his mansion. The definite passion of their debates which made his ears ring from the loud shouting. The quiet rightness of their shared kisses, and Anders’ thoughtfulness of his boundaries.

And most importantly, it was the warming in his chest he felt when looking at Anders’ sleeping face.

Fenris shifted a little, careful not to wake Anders yet. He kissed Anders’ brow, his eyelids, his nose and the side of his face. The kisses weren’t insistent, but soft, barely there presses of his lips.

The first sign of Anders’ waking up was the soft smile that appeared in the corner of his mouth.

Fenris leaned closer and kissed his mouth, even before Anders opened his eyes.

“What a way to wake up,” Anders murmured, lazily blinking his eyes open. “Good morning to you too.”

“Good morning,” replied Fenris.

Anders grinned, then rolled them over, so he could stretch out over Fenris comfortably, the weight of him pinning Fenris down deliciously.

They continued to kiss languidly, completely without hurry. Fenris enjoyed how his body felt after last night’s healing.

“How are you feeling?” asked Anders between kisses. “Is it still as amazing as yesterday?”

Fenris hummed, waiting until Anders’ face turned concerned. “I need to use my body to determine that.”

“Oh?” Anders asked, raising one eyebrow. “And how would you like to use your body?” His playful tone was rather telling, but he ground down on Fenris’ as emphasis. “Can mine help?”

“Let me think,” Fenris started, drawing out the syllables.

Anders snorted, and pinched his arm in retaliation. “Oh, come on, now!”

Fenris snickered, and kissed Anders apologetically. It was easy, so easy to kiss him freely, without any reservation.

“I think there might a way that would be fun for the both of us,” started Fenris, peppering light kisses along Anders’ nose.

“Please, tell me it’s you shoving your knot inside me,” murmured Anders, grinding their pelvises together. “Please, please, please.”

“I guess that’s an option too,” said Fenris, teasing Anders with mock uncertainty. “If you want that.”

“Yes, oh yes, you have no idea.” Anders leaned down and kissed him wildly. “I absolutely want that. Let me show you how much.”

He leaned down and sought under the bed blindly. Then he pulled up a little bottle, and opened it. The smell of dawn lotuses was immediate.

“You keep that close to hand,” snickered Fenris, and Anders bit his collarbone in retaliation.

“I was hoping you’d come by, you know,” he explained it awkwardly. “Aren’t you glad it was here?”

“I certainly like the smell, I’m not complaining at all. Come closer, I’d like to help.”

Fenris pulled at Anders until he was positioned above his head. Anders’ reddened at the implication, but didn’t say a word, until Fenris licked the head of his penis. “Oh, oh, yes, anything for you, yes.”

Anders stretched himself with trembling fingers, while Fenris pleasured him enthusiastically. He literally helped Anders by pulling his cheeks apart and kneading the muscles greedily. Anders was soon losing his rhythm, and let Fenris pull him roughly forward, burying himself deep in his mouth.

He came silently, seeing stars behind his eyelids. Then he blinked his eyes open and grinned down at Fenris. He shuffled backwards and leaned down to kiss Fenris messily. “Oh you wonderful man,” he purred into the kiss.

Fenris slapped his ass gently, urging him to move and not talk absolute nonsense all day.

“I bet you'll feel so good,” Anders said, beaming down at Fenris.

Fenris gripped his hips, not to move him, but to make sure it was completely real and happening to him. He caressed Anders’ thighs and buttocks, his stomach and chest.

“You're beautiful,” he murmured absent-mindedly. “So pretty.”

“I'll be even prettier filled to the brim with your knot,” Anders taunted him sweetly.

When he finally sat down on him, Fenris let out a long suffering sigh. “That’s it, yes, finally,” groaned Anders. “Been dreaming about it, Fenris, you have no idea…”

“I think I do,” Fenris admitted lowly. Anders’ breathing hitched, and he stared down at him with a pretty blush on his face.

“Fenris~” he whimpered, reaching out to tangle their fingers together.

They kept their movements slow and intimate, like ocean’s waves on the coast. Anders took the knot beautifully, delighting in the pleasure burn of it, coming completely outdone by the pressure it put on his insides.

Once they were locked together, they turned to snuggle comfortably.

“This is fantastic,” murmured Anders. “You’re still in so deep, you feel so delicious inside.”

Fenris groaned in agreement. “It is going to deflate in a couple of minutes, don’t worry.”

“I’m loving every second of it. And… we still have hours to spend in here.”

Fenris blinked at him owlishly. “Meaning?”

“You can lay me on my belly and have your wicked way with me.”

Fenris smiled as he wiped the ridiculous expression off of Anders’ face with dozens of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had been a fun project for me, but I stopped having enthusiasm. There was no big plot behind this, just an excuse to have them be bloody, murder templars and instead a dramatic showdown, just muder Danarius in a back alley like the vermin he is.   
> There won't be anymore updates. It's been fun :*


End file.
